Caring Christopher

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#36 This goddess is a sappy, broken mess

Abigail

Experimenting with sex toys is sexier and more arousing than I ever expected it to be. With Chris, I can just let go of my nerves and ask him for what I want, trusting he will tell me when I suggest something he’s not comfortable with. From the feeling of his rock-hard cock pressing against my ass, I can tell he’s actually excited about this. Very excited, in fact.

“Open your legs for me, baby,” he says, sounding tender yet commanding as grabs my thighs and parts them, running his fingers over the edges my lips, teasing me. “You’re so wet,” he breathes, rubbing the tip of his cock against my clit before pulling back and probing me with his fingers again, making me moan loudly.

“Cuff me,” I plead, wanting to experience for the first time ever what it’s like to be under someone’s control in a good way. I’ve had guys hold me down before, taking what they want without caring what I want or like, but Chris isn’t like that. I know that even if he’d tie me up and blindfold me, he would still take care of me in that gentle way of his, never crossing my boundaries. That’s why I can do this with him, act out fantasies I didn’t even realize I had before I met him.

The leather feels cool and soft against my wrists. Once he’s secured them behind my back, I tug at them, testing their strength and how much I can move. It’s obvious to both of us that I can’t use my hands anymore and that it’s up to him what will happen next.

He teases my clit with the tip of his cock, rubbing it against me over and over until I’m squirming, wanting to feel him inside of me. He pushes in slowly, working my clit with his fingers while he fills me up, making me feel like I might come already.

“Oh, you feel so good,” he breathes, pushing against me so he’s completely inside of me. He pulls his fingers through my hair, not moving his lower body at all. Slowly, his fingers move down my spine, causing me to shiver, which in turn makes him grunt. Them his hand moves further down, his index finger circling my tight little hole that I never thought of as sexual, but it is. It so is.

“Yes,” I answer his unspoken question, moaning just from the thought of feeling him in there, even if it’s just his finger.

“Wait,” he pants, suddenly pulling out from me.

“Chris,” I groan, feeling empty and impatient without his touch. I watch him walk back over to the box on the coffee table. His eyes find mine and he smirks a little at the sight of me bent over the armrest, my ass in the air and my wrists cuffed behind my back. With anyone else, I would feel humiliated, but his gaze on me makes me even hotter than I already was.

Oh God. I feel my knees go weak when he takes out a bottle of lube and a string with small anal beads, giving me a questioning look. I nod, and he walks back over. Instead of pushing something into me right away, he leans over me to kiss my neck, moving one hand back between my legs to rub me gently.

“Tell me if I do anything that doesn’t feel good, okay?” he whispers against my skin, his stubble feeling rough and sexy against me. “Also, tell me if it feels good. Just… keep talking to me.”

“Okay,” I moan when he slips a finger inside my pussy. The mere idea of Christopher touching me in a taboo place, doing something that still feels slightly wrong and forbidden to me… It’s hot. The mere anticipation of what’s about to happen turns me on.

“Breathe,” Chris tells me, pressing a kiss to my back before straightening up and slowly pulling the string of beads over my back so I can feel what’s about to be inside of me. They’re small, and I’m grateful for that, because I’m a little nervous this will hurt. He lubes up both me and the beads before slowly and carefully pushing the first one inside of me.

“Oh fuck that feels good,” I whisper, tugging at my cuffs. And it does. It’s very different from anything I’ve ever done before, but I already want more.

Chris pushes in the other two slowly, one by one, taking his time and massaging my cheeks while he does, making sure I’m completely relaxed. Once they’re in, he starts playing with my labia again, not touching my clit at all, making me writhe.

“Patience,” he tells me with a smile in his voice, his cock twitching against my ass.

“I need you,” I cry out, not patient in the least. “Please, Chris, just fuck me.”

“No,” he says forcefully, drawing slow circles around my clit. “I’m first going to make you come.”

“Oh God,” I breathe when he picks up the pace and drives me closer and closer to the edge. Right when I feel like I’m ready to fall apart, he tells me to breathe again, and slowly pulls out one bead, causing me to cry out in pleasure. He moves it in and out a few times while stimulating my clit at the same time, driving me into a frenzy.

“Come for me,” he orders me when he feels me getting closer. “You’re so sexy, Abby. So wet. So ready for me to fuck you. Now come for me.”

My body complies, shuddering and writhing while I cry out his name. Fuck, that feels good. While I’m still riding the waves of pleasure, he pushes his cock inside of my throbbing pussy, filling me up while he gently tugs at the beads again.

“Good?” he asks softly.

“Hmm,” I murmur. “Yes.”

“What do you want, Abby?” he asks hoarsely, his cock twitching deep within me.

“Fuck me,” I plead, needing to feel him come inside of me. “Hard.”

He grabs my hips, his fingers digging in as he starts pounding me hard and fast, chasing his own relief. There is something about this that makes me feel strangely powerful. I’m the one with my hands cuffed behind my back, I’m the one being filled in two different holes, I’m the one under his complete control, but knowing that I put myself in this position, that he’s not just doing this to me, but that I’m letting him do it… I’ve never felt quite like this, and the strange sensation of the beads inside of me along with Chris taking me so hard that it knocks the breath out of me makes me come so hard that I’m shouting, crying, panting, all at once.

“Fuck!” Chris grunts, somehow still managing to keep his wits about him and slowly pulling the beads out of me, causing my body to shudder again, moving on to another mind-blowing orgasm that has tears streaming down my face as I tug at my cuffs wildly. Chris finally fills me up, collapsing on top of me as his body pretty much gives out on him.

“Air,” I pant, squished between him and the couch. “Chris!”

“Sorry,” he groans, getting back up and pulling out of me with a feral grunt. “Fuck, that was…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, helping me up from the couch instead and taking the cuffs off so I can move again.

I turn around, looking him in the eye for the first time since he stepped up behind me, and there is so much wonder and love in his gaze that the embarrassment I feared I’d feel doesn’t bubble up within me. Instead, I reach up to kiss him tenderly, amazed at how easy it is to trust him with my heart, my body, my soul.

Fuck, I’m a sappy mess. I never thought I’d be this girl, offering everything she is to a man, but here I am, and it feels amazing.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “But I think I should wash my hands before we snuggle.”

We both laugh at that, and I press a kiss against his lips once more before letting him go into the kitchen to wash his hands and the beads. He comes back and drops them into the box along with the cuffs and the lube, putting the lid back on. I’m already back on the couch, still naked underneath the blanket I pull over myself. He settles in beside me, pulling me against his chest as he strokes my hair. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is so wild it’s ridiculous.

“Please tell me you’re no longer worried about me ever complaining that you’re not giving me what I need,” I say in a teasing tone, relaxing against him with a sigh.

“I think you were right that time you called me a sex god,” he agrees with a chuckle.

“Guess that makes me a sex goddess,” I reply with a yawn. This surprisingly intense afternoon has me feeling like I could go to sleep and not wake up for another year or so.

“Not just a sex goddess,” Chis whispers. “You’re the goddess of everything.”

“Hmm,” I agree, my eyes falling shut.

“Don’t sleep,” he says, shaking me slightly. “Sorry, baby, but we need to pick up Yoah and Davy soon, and Jagger will be home in half an hour.”

“Ugh, why did we ever want kids?” I ask, realizing a little too late what I just said. These aren’t truly my kids, even though I refer to them as such in my head all the time. Besides, we didn’t agree to have them together. He took them in, and I wasn’t added on until Davy and Yoah had already been here for about a month.

“I’d love to have more with you,” Chris says in the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard. “A cute little baby half me and half you. Or all you, for all I care. You’re perfect. You’d make pretty babies for sure.”

I tear up and press my face against his chest harder, fighting the emotions threatening to overtake me. “Chris… I can’t…”

“Maybe you can,” he insists. “You could take the test, Abby. Find out once and for all. You already think you’ve got the gene, and you live like your life will be over in ten to twenty years. The outcome will either confirm what you already think, or it will set you free. What’s the harm?”

“It’ll make it more real,” I argue. “It will break me.”

“Nothing can break you, baby,” he insists, but he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand how panic is already surging up in me, constricting my breathing. “Take the test,” he pleads. “I won’t leave you no matter the outcome, and I won’t love you any less if it turns out you’ve got the gene. I want to be with you and marry you and spend every single day of my life with you no matter what. I don’t want you to take the test for me, Abby. I want you to take it for you.

I shake my head, not able to look up at him as I reply. “I can’t, Chris. Please don’t force me.”

“Never,” he vows immediately. “I’d never force you to do anything, Abby. You know that.”

Yes, I do know that, yet I also know he won’t drop this. We will have this conversation every single month or so, maybe even every week. It’s not like he’s the first person to try and convince me to find out once and for all if I will end up like Mom. I’m not ready to face the harsh truth. It may seem like I am already living like I’m going to forget every single thing I know and love, but I’m not. Not really. I ignore my impending doom most of the time, and a positive outcome of that dreaded test would make it impossible to ignore my faith from that moment on.

“Do you want to meet my mother?” I ask, deciding that it’s time for him to truly grasp what it means to stay with me, to be with me, to want it all with me. Maybe he will understand it then. Realize that he can’t ask me to take the test that will tell me I will end up like her. Lonely, sad, confused, and not knowing how I am or who the people I used to love are. I’d honestly rather die like Dorothy than end up like my mother.

“I’d love to.” Christopher strokes my hair and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Whenever you’re ready, honey.”

Ready? I almost laugh when he says that. I don’t think I will ever be ready to truly show him that last part of me that he doesn’t entirely comprehend yet, but I know I need to.

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